Devil’s Advocate…Gilets Jaunes

The Gilets Jaunes, or “Yellow Vest” demonstrations began in France on November 17 and were initially a protest of rising petroleum taxes. At about $6.30/gal already, this impending rise of $0.17/gal was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My partner and I were in France for the first month of these citizen-led disruptions.

From the news snippets I have seen, it appears as though France is nearing full anarchy. But of course, this was not the case, merely the impression one gets if they are only shown the most aggressive forms of disruption, notably the looting and rioting occurring along the famous Champs-Elysées Avenue. Suffice it to say, most of France experienced a far more calm and deliberate form of protest.

What exactly did we experience of the protests? Amy and I first saw yellow vests displayed on the dash of cars, work trucks, even buses as we trekked our way around the southern interior and coast of France. We were told as we visited Marseille, France’s second largest city, to avoid a particular area in town due to protests. We later guessed it had something to do with the Gilets Jaunes. It wasn’t terribly difficult to avoid a single street. Then came the delays. Many delays.

While staying in a small village we took a day trip, by bus (its own adventure), to the nearby city of Avignon. About 15 minutes from the city, we saw the beginning of what looked like a barbeque at one of the roundabouts. By this time, we knew about the Yellow Vests and watched people milling around and talking to one another. Not much of a blockade, I thought. Everyone seemed quite cheery and people smiled and waved as we drove by. However, on our return trip from Avignon the unmistakable red glow of brake lights lay before us. The roundabout we’d passed by earlier was now blocked off by more than 50 people. It took 45 minutes to go about a mile. At the roundabout, we saw people walk up to every car that was passed through, say a few words, and sometimes carry on an entire conversation, before letting the car through, only to stop the next one. Police were present, but only to ensure the safety of everyone, not directing traffic nor trying to disband the protesters. The Yellow Vests had full control of the road so long as they remained peaceable, it seemed. Some of the drivers, including our bus driver, sounded their horns, although it was hard to tell if it was out of irritation or support. Then we were through, and that was that.

We also witnessed a massive blockade in Carcassonne the following weekend (most of the protests were on Friday and Saturday). Immediately after we’d passed the Yellow Vests, a brigade of S.W.A.T.-like police vehicles swooped in. I’m not sure of the results. A week later, we were stuck on a train from Toulouse to Paris for our final departure from Europe. Luckily, we had allotted a couple of days in the City of Light. We were stalled on the tracks for three hours. Everyone seemed calm though. People got off the train, stretched. No one said much. The conductor came through to tell everyone (in French) what was happening and that he didn’t know when we’d get going again. Apparently, people in Limoges, the next city we were to pass through, took over the train station and had armed themselves with stones found along the tracks. We chatted with a local who explained that the police must have had orders to only play defense. It was a waiting game, and we had to wait. But we made a new friend, Remi, and he was delightful and helpful in translating.

On our last day in France, we visited a few of the big sites in Paris: the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and part of Champs-Elysées Avenue, where we saw the remains of a burned vehicle and several broken windows. But life seemed to be going on as usual for most Parisians.

“The French like to protest,” said more than one of our Airbnb hosts. So they do.

Cheers.

Gas prices: https://www.globalpetrolprices.com/France/gasoline_prices/